Bad Enough For You What Could Have Been
by PinkRayBansandPorcelainPenguns
Summary: Alternate Ending "A" to Bad Enough For You. Will make absolutely no sense without reading the rest of the story. For Those who voted "A" on my poll-thingy. Rated M because the rest of the story was.


A/N: This is Alternate ending "A" for Bad Enough For You. This is it. I will not be writing anything else for this ending.  
I've marked clearly where the story begins to differ from Alternate Ending "B" so if you've already read that one, feel free to skip ahead.

**-MEOW-**

"Why is it always like this with you?" Kurt yelled, shoving Blaine backwards, causing him to stumble. "Can't you ever just be real?"

Blaine glared at the ground and swallowed.

"Talk to me, Blaine!" Kurt dug his hands through his perfectly coiffed hair. "I don't even know who you _are!_"

"Argh!" Blaine screamed, slamming a fist into the wall. "You're so frustrating! This is what you want, isn't it?" Blaine tugged the jacket off and tossed it at Kurt. "I'm who you wanted me to be!" Blaine smiled, pained and cynical. "You didn't even look at me before... And now... Well, now I'm your perfect fucking man, aren't I?" It was a real question, as if Blaine was asking if he'd done a good job.

Kurt stared at him, bewildered. Blaine just laughed. "God, you don't even realize... You never figured it out!" Blaine began pulling out his earrings one by one, tossing them on the ground.  
"This. Was. Never. _Me._ I changed for you, and you didn't even know it." Blaine began to sob, falling to his knees. "How could you? You didn't even know me before I..." He gestured to himself brokenly. "But it was always worth it. You've always been worth it." He whispered.

Blaine collapsed, tucking his knees into his chest and lying on his side, sobbing. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for Kurt to leave, waiting for his own, personal everything to abandon him.  
Suddenly, a pair of arms encircled him, and he felt a warm body press up against his back.  
"Shh... I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry." Kurt whispered, holding back tears of his own.

Blaine whimpered all kinds of things from "It wasn't even real," to "Alone, alone, alone.", though Kurt only caught half of them.

Blaine felt so many things; pain, anger, sadness, relief, but most of all, he felt fear. Blaine had told Kurt his secret, and now, Kurt would leave him. He was going to lose Kurt. The lie had unraveled.  
Suddenly, Blaine felt tired. Excruciatingly tired. He couldn't keep his eyes open as he sobbed himself to sleep in Kurt's arms.  
**-MEOW-**

He wasn't sure how he got there, but Blaine woke up in the backseat of a moving car. No, truck. His truck. Sitting up as he blinked awake. His voice was hoarse with sleep, "Kurt?" He rubbed eyes his.

Kurt's head snapped back over his shoulder as he looked at Blaine from his place in the driver's seat. "Blaine!" He gasped, smiling softly. "How are you feeling, honey?"

Blaine yawned, the memories of their fight flooding back to him. His eyes began to water again. He looked at Kurt in the rear-view mirror and shook his head, biting on his bottom lip to stop it from trembling. He tucked his knees into his chest and laid his head on them, allowing the silent tears to flow down.

-**-MEOW-**-

It wasn't until he noticed the sunset that he questioned how long they'd been driving. His tears had dried up long before and now all that were left were the residual hiccups.  
"Kurt?" He asked carefully. Kurt's eyes snapped up to the mirror, looking at him questioningly.  
"Where are we going?"  
Kurt swallowed and smiled sadly. "We need to talk." That was all he said as he took the next exit.  
Blaine furrowed his eyebrows, but dropped it. He could trust Kurt. Hell, he loved Kurt. He'd follow Kurt until death.

It was a while before they stopped. It wasn't anything special, just a dirt path that lead into some woods.  
Kurt pulled out the keys and stepped out of the car, breathing in deep and smiling like he was greeting someone he hadn't seen in ages.  
He pulled the back door open and gestured for Blaine to get out. Blaine looked up at him, barely choking back another flurry of tears. He just COULDN'T lose Kurt. But what would Kurt want with him anymore? He was a nobody again.

He followed Kurt out of the car and tripped along behind him down the dirt path and through a flurry of trees.  
They continued like that for what felt like forever, but the sun was still peeking over the edge of the earth enough to give them light, so it couldn't have been too long.  
But then, Kurt stepped out of view. He stepped into what should have been a moss-covered rock and just... Disappeared.

Blaine's eyes widened and he poked the stone infront of him. The moss shuddered and wriggled against his touch. He pulled the stringy green plant to one side and stepped into the well-hidden cave behind it.

It was horribly dark, and the only light was a flickering beam somewhere off toward the back of the cave. "K-Kurt?" Blaine stammered out.  
"Back here."  
He followed the voice and turned a sharp corner to find Kurt sitting cross-legged with his back against the cave wall, eyes shut, and a small, faint flashlight in his hand.  
"Sit."  
Blaine sniffled but complied, choosing a spot on the other side of the ten foot wide room.  
"Alright." Kurt opened his eyes, looking directly into Blaine's for the first time since they'd begun fighting. "Are you ready?" Blaine looked skeptically at Kurt, but nodded. "Okay. I'll start. Who are you?"  
"You know me, Kurt." Blaine pleaded with his eyes. "I'm the man you mae love with, I'm the little glimpse of human that made it all fall apart. This is the real Blaine. I like Disney movies and Katy Perry. I read Cosmo and Vogue, I eat Redvines like they're going out of style, and I am terrified of losing the one thing that has made me happy. You."  
The longer Blaine spoke, his voice slowly lost determination, and as his eyes slipped shut, allowing one tear to fall down his stained cheeks, he spoke in just a whisper. "I can't lose you, Kurt."  
He tucked his knees up against his chest, hugging them close as everyone one of his failures came rushing back to him, every regret, every lost hope. Somehow, even with how he knew it would end, he would never change what he'd had with Kurt. It had been the best time of his life.

"I love you, Kurt." Blaine stared, begging, up at Kurt, who gasped and bit his lip, his eyes starting to tear up.  
"I... I don't know you, Blaine." Kurt gaped helplessly as Blaine's face fell, breaking into a twisted sort of anger, defeat, and despair.  
Blaine stood and ran. Out of the cave, out into the woods. He heard Kurt's voice call his name, but it was an echo in the back of his mind. He ran until his throat was hoarse and his legs were sore. He wasn't sure which direction he was headed, but he knew he had to get away.  
His phone was set to flashlight mode, but the light wasn't too much help in the dark, tangled roots of the forest.  
He jumped over a fallen tree, only to find his left foot caught between the log and a root from another tree. He tumbled headfirst down, rolling sideways off the path and down a steep hill. He heard a thunderous crack and felt pain shoot up his leg. He screamed, but it came out a crackly and soft. He rolled down the hill and felt sharp thistles and rocks jab through his white t-shirt and jeans. Then the back of his head slammed against a bluntly pointed rock. He felt the warm seeping of blood in his hair and the loud thumping of his heart filled his ears. He kept rolling, and knew he should scream, call out for help, but he couldn't make his lips move.

Then everything went black.

**-MEOW-**

Kurt called Blaine for the 5th time. It rang four times and then went to voicemail. He couldn't bring himself to leave a message. What would he say?  
Blaine had poured himself out for Kurt to see and Kurt had broken his heart.  
He hadn't been wrong, Kurt had no idea who this new Blaine was. Had it all been a lie?  
Was everything he knew about Blaine... wrong?

He knew Blaine had a flashlight, and money to get home, but he was worried. He didn't really know why, he just was.  
He swallowed thickly and headed back to the car.  
Kurt sat in the driver's seat, trying to decide what to do. Should he go home?  
Should he go find Blaine?  
_What if Blaine already left? He's not stupid, Kurt, he can get home on his own._ He sighed, pulling out his phone, he tried one more time. No answer. _Great. _  
Kurt drove home and went to sleep. He tried calling Blaine twice more that night, but with no success.

It wasn't until the next day at about lunch time when he saw the news. A boy, young, maybe 17, had been found in Veteran's Memorial park in Mentor.  
Kurt had almost ignored until a picture flashed up on the screen. The boy had no identification on him, so the police had sent out a picture of the boy. It was Blaine, hair mussed, eyes closed, and a large deep purple bruise under his jaw. His nose was shifted, as though it had been broken, and his skinn was caked in dirt and blood. A small, black-haired woman pleaded into a microphone. "Do you know this boy? If so, please contact-" That was all Kurt heard. He dropped his plate of food and ran out of the house, tears forming and a hand over his mouth.

He grabbed Blaine's jacket out of the back seat of the car and rummaged through the pockets. He found Blaine's wallet in the inside pocket. "Shit."  
Kurt grabbed Blaine's keys and piled into the truck. He switched it on and slammed down the gas.

It was three hours and twenty minutes to Mentor. Kurt made it in two flat.  
He wasn't sure what hospital Blaine was at, but he knew where the police station was.  
He burst through the door and frantically ran to the first desk with a person behind it.  
"Hello," The lady at the desk began, "How may I-"  
"The boy." Kurt cut her off. "The one you found today. I know who he is."  
Kurt dug through his pockets and pulled out Blaine's wallet, grabbing his driver's license and showing the woman. "He's Blaine Anderson. Now what hospital was he taken to?"

The woman gaped at him. Kurt groaned, desperate to see Blaine before... Well he didn't want to think about that. "What hospital?" He demanded.

His voice seemed to shake the woman out of her trance, "Lake Health," She said, nodding. She jotted down the address and handed back the wallet. Kurt reach for the licence, but she shook her head. "No, I have to keep this. I'll see it gets back to.. Um.. Blaine."  
Kurt nodded and thanked her as he ran out the the building, punching the address into his phone's GPS.

**-MEOW-**

Kurt ran up to the front desk at Lake Health Emergency Care. He Looked at the burly, scrub-wearing man that sat behind it giving him a "no-nonsense" look, and tried to assemble himself before he spoke. "What room is Blaine Anderson staying in?" He asked quickly.  
The man nodded and turned to his computer, typing and clicking for about thirty seconds before turning back to Kurt. "I'm sorry, sir, but we have no patient here by that name."  
Kurt clapped his hands together loudly. "Oh! Right. You wouldn't..." He looked around and clicked his tongue absent-mindedly. "The boy from t.v. today. His name is Blaine Anderson. What room is he in?"  
Realization flooded the man's face, "Oh, yes. Friend or family?"  
Kurt thought for a moment. He'd seen this sort of interaction on drama shows. "Family." He nodded holding out his hand. "Kurt Anderson, Blaine's brother." He shook the man-behind-the-desk's hand.  
"Drew Mackie," He said, searching his computer again. "Room 216-A," He said, handing Kurt a clipboard with a large stack of papers on it. Kurt took the papers and pen offered to him and ran down the hall in the direction Drew had pointed.

"230-A, 228-A, 226-A," He muttered to himself as he dragged his hand along the wall, as if touching it would keep him on the earth. "216-A!" He nearly yelled, jumping in place.

He burst into the room, "Blaine!" He stopped abruptly at the sight that surrounded him.  
The lights of the room struck sharp and pale on the gray walls, furniture and bedding.  
The room smelled of stale air, stagnant water, and vomit.

**THIS**

**IS**

**WHERE**

**ALTERNATE**

**ENDING  
**

"**A"**

**STARTS: (Read only if you voted "A")**

There were three beds in front of Kurt, one held an old man with sharp-looking silver hair, who was either asleep or dead, though Kurt figured he was asleep.  
Another held a girl, young, maybe thirteen, pale and bald, with oxygen tubes in her nose. She stared at him, tiredly, as if she'd lost all hope.

The third bed, the one directly in front of Kurt, was empty, the gray sheets tucked in on all sides, barely changing at the near-flat pillow's bump.

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows and stepped back out of the room. He checked the number on the door again. 216-A. He poked his head back into the room and looked at the girl. "Curly-haired boy, in here earlier. Where'd he go?"

The girl bit her lips, eyes welling up slightly. "They- He- Oh, God. I'm so sorry." She took a deep breath and swallowed. "He's in the Morgue." She squeezed out a small tear.  
Kurt could feel his head snapping back and forth, shaking "no", but he wasn't in control.

He began to hyperventilate. He tried to speak, but no words came out. The light around his eyes began to feather, and black spots started forming in his vision. It was as if he were being choked from the inside out. Kurt covered his mouth, his face crumpling in pain. The last thing he saw was the girl reach for her call button, and then he passed out.

**-MEOW-**

His head was pounding, his throat was sore, and the taste of vomit lingered in his mouth. He opened his eyes to find that he was in his room, again.  
Kurt let the memories wash over him and lied in his bed completely still, eyes trained on the ceiling above.

He heard a knock on the door, but couldn't bring himself to look over.

Burt poked his head around the door. "Kurt? Kiddo are you awake?"

Kurt didn't answer, but turned his head enough for Burt to see his eyes. He entered the room, sitting on the edge of Kurt's bed. He rubbed Kurt's upper arm and furrowed his eyebrows.  
"The... The funeral's on Friday morning."

Silence loomed over the room. Burt leaned in, placing a gentle hand on Kurt's cheek. "Kiddo, it's been three days since the accident." Burt shook his head, pleading for Kurt to answer. "Kurt, talk to me! Why won't you answer me!"

Burt let the small tears flow over his cheeks, knowing he wouldn't have been able to stop them if he tried. First Elizabeth, now his Kurt. He would lose them all, wouldn't he?

He wiped at his nose and sauntered out of the room, doing his best not to let Kurt see he was hurting. Kurt had been through enough.

Kurt hadn't spoken since Burt and Finn had picked him up from Lake Health. He'd been out cold, not waking up for almost four hours. When he did wake up, he'd been almost completely still. He slept most of the time, but he had violent nightmares, and often woke up covered in sick.

He hadn't spoken, and he wouldn't speak for a long time to come.

-**-MEOW-**-

Friday morning, Burt had insisted Kurt get up and go to the funeral. He wanted to Kurt to have a chance to say goodbye, even if he couldn't do it out loud. So Kurt shuffled along, dressed in whatever Burt had helped him into, next to an open casket. Blaine lay in the cherry wood box, looking peaceful, but just off "right". Anyone who passed by would say he looked just like he was sleeping, but Kurt knew better. Kurt knew that he always slept on his stomach, mouth open, tongue moving along to whatever dream he was having.

This was wrong.

**-MEOW-**

Kurt never spoke. Even in school. He hadn't used his voice in four months. May 25th, the last day of school, Kurt got in his car and drove to the small, secluded cemetery that housed a tombstone reading, "Blaine A. M. Anderson. 1995-2012"

As Kurt had discovered, Blaine's parents hadn't been overly loving people.

He held a small, gray scrapbook to his chest as he knelt down beside Blaine's grave.

He took a deep breath.

"I love you." It came out croaky and unused. He coughed and started again. "I would have married you, Blaine Anderson." He sniffed gently as the tears came to his eyes. "I'm so, so, sorry."

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to imagine Blaine standing there, listening. "I never should have left you. If I'd gone after you... I'm so sorry, Blaine."

He used the back of his hand to wipe tears from his chin.

"Just.. If you're somewhere, and you can hear me... Just know I love you, and I always will."

He opened the scrapbook and read the caption. "Me and Blaine 1/3/2012 – I loved him. Even here, when I barely knew him. I loved him already."

The book was filled with nearly 50 pictures, all of his and Blaine's week of wonderful, amazing love.

Pictures of everything they'd done together. Even a picture of Blaine asleep in his bed.

Kurt came to this place every Friday that summer, sharing a few more pictures with Blaine each time.

Kurt was accepted to NYU and left for New York on August 31st, after saying goodbye one last time.

"Goodbye, Blaine. I loved you, and I always will." He took the last picture from the book, a picture of them together in the car eating pizza. The last picture Kurt would ever take of the two of them.

He placed the picture on the grave face-down, gently arranging flowers over it so that it was invisible.

He kissed the "B" in Blaine's name, and turned, not looking back as he cried the last tears he had for his perfect savior.

He climbed in the car and drove away, all his things packed and ready for the long, 10 hour drive.

He'd said goodbye to everything he loved today, and now he had to start over. Alone, scared, and hurt.

But he was ready. And he would do it, for Blaine.

**-MEOW-**

**A/N: **So, I hope you're happy, because I'm not. This was the absolute worst to write. :( Review if you wish it.


End file.
